


A Moment

by TheTrickyOwl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-23
Updated: 2012-10-23
Packaged: 2017-11-16 21:04:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTrickyOwl/pseuds/TheTrickyOwl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Medieval AU. All he wanted was one more moment with his brother, before the responsibilities of running a kingdom separated them forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Moment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dawnperhaps](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnperhaps/gifts).



Gabriel could jump if he wanted to.

T’was not much of a fall, as far as he could see from his perch up high in the battlements. Below, the courtyard was bathed with the fiery light of the setting sun, the orange glow dancing across the thin blanket of fresh snow that coated the cobblestones and grasses. The air was icy up here, his breath escaping him in visible puffs of white. The feathers of his wings, tawny in colour and dappled in a way unlike any of his brothers before him, were stiff with cold. He ruffled them loosely.

It wouldn’t be so bad, leaping from this height. His wings would surely ease the speed of his descent, and he was quite light on his feet. Fast, agile. He could take off toward the distant woods. A horse would not be needed. His brothers could hardly catch him once he got moving when he was a child, and who was to stay they would catch him now?

The roar of laughter and chatter and singing were spilling out from the castle windows, and plumes of smoke from the cooking boar in the kitchens rose up from the chimneys to meet the clouds above. A glorious feast was taking place in celebration for the future King of the realm. Michael’s coronation was less than a week away. There was no one better suited, as far as Gabriel was concerned. Michael was the eldest in their family, a master swordsman and a magnificent rider. He was highly educated in the laws of their realm, strong beyond compare, and beautiful in a way that was nearly heartbreaking.

Gabriel was the youngest of his three brothers. The Golden Prince, they called him, referring to his uniquely coloured eyes and wings. He was never meant to rule and, frankly, thank whatever deity that cared to listen that this was true. Such things bored him. He cared naught for the laws of the land, for feasts and courts and peace treaties. To be trapped inside the castle was a maddening thing, but Michael was properly suited for it. He preferred to be out, galloping across the plains and woods on his horse, mingling with the peasants in the surrounding village of Lawrence. He loved to drink with them, to dance and mingle. They accepted him as one of their own, and he would have given anything to be among them right now.

He need only jump, need only escape the confines of this blasted castle, and he could have all of that and more. The village was no doubt throwing their own festivities in honour of their future King, and they would exceed whatever stuffy little ceremony was taking place inside.

Without hesitation, Gabriel rose to his full, rather unimpressive height atop the battlements. The wind whipped through his silken hair and the thin fabric of his tunic. His cloak billowed out behind him, the olive fabric snapping loudly like the flags on the towers behind him. He caught sight of his shadow cast across the glimmering snow, and extended his wings. They felt so tight, it was near painful to stretch them out.

One quick leap. That was all it was going to take. He would be back before sunrise, for sure. The others would hardly be aware of his absence.

One leap.

Just one.

“If you even think of jumping, I will have your head on a damned pike, sweet brother.”

Gabriel yelped, the soles of his leather boots skidding across the icy stone. He managed to catch his grip, and turned to meet the sharp blue stare of his eldest brother, who was directly behind him. Michael looked regal in the fading light, draped in crimson velvet, black leather, and shimmering gold. His hair so black it absorbed whatever light dared touch it, brows drawn down in a disapproving scowl. And his wings, such a contrast to the rest of him. As white as snow, and positively delicate to the touch. A weakness that Michael shared with no other soul but Gabriel.

“I was not going to jump,” Gabriel frowned.

“You are a terrible liar.”

“Am not.”

A slight grin spread across Michael’s face as he strode forward toward the battlement wall. Only then did Gabriel notice a goblet in one of his hands, no doubt filled with the sweetest wine from the feast. The youngest prince dropped down on his haunches, to sit eye-level with his brother.

“What are you doing out here, anyway?” Gabriel asked softly.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Michael said as he took a sip of the wine. “You’re the last person in this realm and the next who would ever skip out on wine, women, and song.”

Gabriel huffed, folding his wings back in against his body. Flurries of snow had begun to dance down from the sky. “I was not in the mood tonight.”

“Oh?” Michael inquired. “And why is that?”

Gabriel ignored the question, moving to sit on the battlements with his legs hanging down off the edge. He reached over and swiped up the cup of wine in his brother’s hand. It was warm, but tantalizingly sweet as it washed over his tongue and poured down his throat. As he swirled and sipped, he gazed out toward the darkened forest.

“How is the feast?”

“As good as any feast can get, I suppose. Raphael is entertaining the guests with stories. Lucifer is boasting.” Michael rested his elbows on the ledge where his brother sat. “The drinking started quite early tonight. Sir Balthazar was well into the wine when he sat himself on Lord Crowley’s lap.” He chuckled. “Surprisingly enough, I don’t think either of them minded it.”

Gabriel smiled. “And Sir Castiel?”

“Skipped out, it seems. Probably to visit that Winchester boy at the stables.” Michael shrugged, reaching up to smooth out a few of Gabriel’s feathers. “You should have joined us.”

Gabriel frowned softly, gazing into the red reflection of himself on the surface of the sweet wine. Michael’s touches to his wing had him stirring where he sat. “We missed you on the hunt yesterday.” He said. “Lucifer caught a buck.”

“Yes, I heard that. We’ve served some of it at the feast tonight.” Michael nodded. “I also heard that you nearly took off Raphael’s left ear with one of your arrows.”

“Minor detail.” Gabriel waved it off. “His fault for getting in the way of my shot.”

Michael laughed, a lovely and rare sound. “I am sorry I did not have the time to join you.”

“You have not had the time in months.”

Even Gabriel was surprised at the amount of bitterness in his tone when he stated that.

Michael caught it as well. “Well, with my upcoming coronation, I have been a bit busy as of late, sweet brother.”

“A bit?” Gabriel quirked a brow. “You’ve hardly made a moment of time for us.”

“I’m making a moment right now, aren’t I?” Michael asked, those glorious snowy wings of his spreading. “I’ve skipped out on the feast to come up here and see you.”

Gabriel’s cushioned lips pressed tightly together. He set the goblet of wine down next to him. “But who is to say you’ll have a moment after you’ve been crowned? With the amount of responsibilities you’re about to take on, whose to say you’ll have time for any of us anymore?”

His voice cracked. His Goddamn voice actually cracked.

There was a long, passing moment of silence between them, filled with naught but the howl of early winter wind, and the roar of celebration beyond the stone walls. That, and the hammering of Gabriel’s blasted heart behind his ribcage. He did not like arguing with his most precious older brother.

“Gabriel…” Michael began, his voice as soft as the red velvet he wore. “I have a feeling this has little to do with me not having time for my brothers, and more about me not having time for you.”

The young Prince refused to respond, turning away and curling his wings around himself. He felt ashamed at his selfishness, but at the same time, he missed the company of his brother so badly, it was agonizing for his heart to bear it any longer.

“That is why you did not come to the feast tonight.” Michael continued. “You thought I would ignore you.”

“There are hundreds of people here,” Gabriel swallowed. “Hundreds of them. All for you. I would just be another face lost in the crowd, without a single moment to have you all to myself. Forgive me, but I would rather be up here on my own. Better be forgotten when I cannot be seen, than when I am standing right beside you.”

“Brother, look at me.” Michael said.

Gabriel would not. Could not.

And that’s when Michael’s strong arms curled themselves around his body, and tugged him down off the battlements. Gabriel flailed in surprise, catching himself on his brother’s broad chest. He was sure that they would both fall backward at their combined weight against the ice-slickened stone, but Michael held true. Always the strength and support of their family. Gabriel clung for a few long moments, face buried in snow-dampened velvet that scented heavily of his brother. His fingers curled into the fabric, and he absorbed the warmth of the other man into his own body.

“Gabriel,” Michael whispered against his hair. “Do you really think I would forget about you?”

He clenched his eyes shut. “You practically have, already.”

“That, you are wrong about.” Michael drew back, only to cradle either side of Gabriel’s face in his hands. The leather gloves he wore were freezing cold against the young Prince’s flushed cheeks. “Just because I will become King does not mean that I will put my crown before any of my brothers.” He smiled. A fond, knowing smile, meant only for Gabriel. “Especially you.”

Gabriel felt himself smirk. “Because I am your favourite?”

“Let’s not say that too loudly…” Michael said in a hushed tone, leaning down to push the very tips of their frozen noses together. “But, yes. Perhaps it is because you are my favourite.”

“Perhaps?”

Michael clicked his tongue in exasperation, and gave the much smaller man a playful shove backwards against the battlements. Gabriel grinned and found himself pinned between icy stone and the warm solidity of his eldest brother’s body. Michael loomed over him, snowy white wings spreading wide, blotting out whatever light remained of the setting sun. Gabriel was bent backwards, until the ends of his honey blonde hair hung loosely over the sheer drop below. 

Michael’s body was locked snug between the Prince’s thighs, and he bent close to bathe Gabriel’s cheek in hot breath. “You talk too much.”

“I daresay I talk just enough.” Gabriel said, hands reaching up to brush flakes of snow from Michael’s midnight hair. “I’m the fun one of the family, after all.”

“Your silver tongue is going to get you into a heap of trouble one day.” Michael’s gloved hands flattened on Gabriel’s stomach.

“You’ve never complained about my tongue before.” Gabriel purred.

Sharp teeth found the underside of Gabriel’s throat and bit down, hard enough to steal the breath straight from the Prince’s lungs. He gasped sharply, pain instantly soothed by a soft, wet tongue, and delicate kisses. No blood was drawn, but there would be a mark there; a secret claiming that Michael always left somewhere on his body when they were together, in a place hidden from all eyes but their own.

“Mine…” Michael murmured against Gabriel’s throat.

The Prince hummed his agreement, fingers burying themselves into the downy feathers of Michael’s wings. “You have not said that in a while.”

“I know,” Michael’s breath hitched at the contact. “Forgive me.”

“Nothing to forgive.” Gabriel smiled genuinely. “Just promise that, once you are the most important man in the realm, you will still have time for moments like this.”

Their mouths met, the kiss like a slow-burning fire in Gabriel’s veins. So hot, he would not be surprised if the thin sheet of snow now coating their cloaks and hair instantly melted away at the contact. The essence of sweet wine still lingered on Michael’s tongue, and the young Prince eagerly drew the flavour into his mouth until it was all he could taste.

“You promise, Michael?” Gabriel asked in a hot whisper.

“I swear to it.” His brother murmured in response. “I will set aside everything, every last thing, to find you. One night a week. Just for us. And, should I ever forget, I give you full permission to remind me however you see fit.”

“Anyway I like, hm?” Gabriel tapped his chin in thought. “Well, I did find out yesterday that shooting arrows at people has a way of getting their attention.”

Michael glared playfully. “I’d rather not be turned into a pincushion.”

“Perhaps I’ll go gallivanting naked into the throne room at some random hour. That’s sure to catch your eye, right?”

“Certainly, but I will at most times be in the company of others while I’m in there,” Gloved fingers firmly pressed into the dip of Gabriel’s hip. “And, to make myself clear, no other eyes are allowed to gaze upon your naked form but mine.”

The purr that emerged from Gabriel was more of a pleasant growl, rumbling deep in his throat. “None but yours?”

“None,” Michael smirked. “I will be King. I can make it a law, if I so pleased.”

“Such dedication to the important matters,” Gabriel laughed.

Michael dipped his head down for one last, lingering kiss, and then drew back. He tugged Gabriel with him, pulling him back to standing. The young Prince’s hair was mussed, and frozen stiff. He welcomed the sensation of Michael’s gloved fingers combing though it in an attempt to neaten it up. Gabriel purred, leaning into the touches like a kitten begging for affection. Inside, the roar of celebrations continued on, the only slight interruption in this small, silent moment between the two brothers.

“You should return to the feast,” Gabriel said. “They’ll end up noticing your absence sooner or later.”

“If they’ve gotten into the mead, I highly doubt it.” Michael’s gaze softened. “Join me.”

“I think I’ll pass,” Gabriel smirked slowly, drawing away from Michael’s embrace and taking a few steps back. “Like I said, I am not in the mood for wine, women, and song tonight.”

Dark brows quirked curiously. “What are you in the mood for, then?”

The Golden Prince grinned. “You’ll figure that out later on, dear brother.”

When he spun on his heel and began to walk away, he heard Michael call out to him, “Where in the world are you going?”

Gabriel didn’t bother looking back when he stated, “Your bedchamber, awaiting our next little moment alone. Do hurry up with it, will you?”

He did not expect what happened next. The world suddenly tilted on its head as Gabriel was hoisted out of nowhere by Michael’s strong hands and thrown over his brother’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He yelped, cloak hanging over his head, and face practically buried in soft, snowy feathers. Being a great deal smaller than the other man, it was no surprise Michael could carry him.

“M-Michael!” Gabriel laughed. “The feast!”

“Damn the feast.”

Smirking, the young Prince tossed all dignity to the wind, and allowed his brother to whisk him away into the warm confines of the castle, and to a long, heated night that made up for every moment they had lost together.


End file.
